


Fix Me

by KrumPuffer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Dark Percy Weasley, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Language, F/M, Murder, One Shot, Rough Sex, Short One Shot, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrumPuffer/pseuds/KrumPuffer
Summary: This fic has acts of extreme violence, abuse, and death.  This fic may have situations that could cause emotional triggers.  Read with caution.
Relationships: Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley
Kudos: 5





	Fix Me

Fix me.

Song, Breathe me, Sia. (Sorry)

“You don’t know how to change a tire?”

“Give it a rest, would you Penny?”

The pretty girl leaned against the cherry red 1959 Cadillac. Her body tall and lean, her face bare of makeup, with beautifully exaggerated features, slim nose, big lips, doe eyes, and a trace of natural pink lining her flustered cheeks.

“I knew this was a bad idea, Percy. You are just like your father, whether you like it or not.” She said, looking at her feet, scuffing road gravel under them.”

“I said give it a rest Penny! For fucks sake. I can figure out how to change a tire… and I’m nothing like my father. Now stand there and look pretty, being of no help what-so-ever, as per usual.” He said, mumbling the last part under his breath hoping she didn’t hear and hoping she _would_ hear.

“You _are_ like him. The muggle car. The magic-free weekends. You know what I think Percy? I think you never forgave yourself for abandoning them all those years ago. I think they forgave you, but you, being you, never let it go. And now, you would do absolutely anything to get that time back.”

The handsome red-headed man dropped the metal instrument to the gravel, his head hanging low, was this what his defeat would look like? A flat tire? A failed road-trip? Is this where Penny has enough and walks away from his shit? 

Too many people have given him second chances, and his inability to give himself one was tinkering on the brink of self-destruction. How does a perfectionist master a major flaw? 

“Penny?”

“What Percy?”

“I _can_ ’t fix it.”

“I knew it. Fucking perfect. The man who knows _Ev-ery-thing_! How does it feel Percy? To not be able to fix something with your book smart and your long hours at the office and your distance and your title? How does it feel, to not be able to change a damn tire?”

“I didn’t mean the tire Pen. I meant me. I can’t fix me. I’m fucked up. And I’m dragging you down with me. I can’t love you right Penelope. And I can see you are hurting, or angry or whatever it is that’s making you say these cruel words. We’re not ourselves anymore. We are ugly and mean and distant…”

“And why do you think that is Percy?” she looks at his body, hunched into himself, pitiful and just, done, “Stand up! Stand up and look at me while you do this! Look me in the eyes while you tell me I’m not worth it. Because I have given you all of my best years. Supported you and waited for you to come around and care more about me or anyone for that matter, yourself included, than you do your work. And you can’t. I found your flaw, your Achilles heel. You can’t fix _you_. And, I’m pretty fucking sure, that you can’t, in fact, change that tire.”

He stood slowly. Running his long perfect fingers, through the thick red hair, and dusted the gravel from his knees and made his way to the stranger he used to know so well.

“You’re right Penny. I’m sorry.” He said low. Closing the gap between them he pressed his lips to her forehead, “I never put you first. And I think I lost you.”

Her eyes close as his lips rest on her, tears falling freely, she doesn’t try to stop them. She doesn’t try to stop _him_. She knows this is their farewell. This is their last trip. This is their last fight. And they both do it, with no fight at all.

His mouth comes to her ear, whispering over and over, _I’m sorry,_ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry._ His words turning to small kisses, down her neck, finding the tears at her chin, falling to the gravel, he licks it away, tasting her sorrow on his lips. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Penny._

Her chest heaves as her crying turns from silent tears into heavy sobs, she lets go.

His mouth finds hers; he will silence her one last time. The only way he knows how. He presses a sweet kiss to her already parted lips, and she receives him, kissing back, hungry for distraction, and in need to feel him against her one last time, she pulls him into her and kisses him deep and hard and dirty. Salty tears and hot mouths smash together.

Emotions wild. The tire still flat. The road long and empty and dark, Percy pulls the soft fabric of her dress up to her waist and pushes her panties to the dirty roadside, she kicks them off, spreading her legs for him, the only familiar emotion she has left of him, lust and desire. He presses two fingers into her, and she moans, the sounds of her sobs, shifting, the pain subsiding, making room for this pleasure. He fucks her with his fingers, pulling out and rubbing her clit then fucking her again.

A moan escapes her, he pulls his slick fingers from her sex, and before unbuttoning his pants he brings them to his mouth and sucks her arousal from them, knowing, this will be the last time he can taste her this way.

Pushing his pants to the ground, he grabs her tiny hips and lifts her onto the hood of the car and pushes his hard cock into her. 

She cries out his name and he fucks her hard, the idea of some other man inside her turns his passion into something dark and ugly, the thought of another man better than him, loving her gently, he pounds into her, gripping into her ass in a bruising stronghold.

Her moans start to change, into painful sighs, “Percy, you are hurting me.”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

He covers her mouth, slamming her head into the car, he watches her eyes widen in fear, and he pulls out and slams into her. He can’t hear her plead with him. He can’t hear her ask him to stop. He would never be able to fix this…

He feels her try and bite at his hand, her arms swinging at him, one of the blows busting the skin above his eyebrow, blood dripping onto her soft pink dress, this is the most alive he has felt in years. 

Her struggle grows, he almost falls back, taking his hand from her mouth he brings it to her throat and chokes her. His other hand gripping her wrist pinning it above her head, while her other hand swings into him, he fucks her still, his body able to still move, still hold her tight, still able to thrust, as he still has the air in his lungs.

Her arm stops swinging, and scratches at his hand on her throat, he holds tighter still, watching her fight end. Watching her life end. Watching the lights go out in the big doe eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. He watches her die, as he comes inside her. 

Her body grows lax, his cock mimics her, and grows soft. 

He couldn’t fix it. 

He couldn’t be good enough.

He couldn’t let someone else be good enough.

He pulled out of his love's body, his semen spilling from between her golden pussy, and steps back from her, letting her body slide from the car and crash to the gravel. 

No, he could never fix this.

He walks into the field behind them, leaving her body to grow cold alone, and with his bare hands, no magic to help, starts to dig a shallow grave.


End file.
